


The Noose

by melonbutterfly



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Consent Issues, Fight Sex, M/M, Rough Sex, Sibling Incest, Unsafe Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-04
Updated: 2013-08-04
Packaged: 2017-12-22 10:59:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/912406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melonbutterfly/pseuds/melonbutterfly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the path towards corruption of everything they respectively stand for, but neither of them realizes that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Noose

**Author's Note:**

> More info on the specifics of the consent issues in the notes at the end.
> 
> Title (and story) inspired by the same-titled song by A Perfect Circle.

They not-land in the midst of dead leaves and earth, grass and twigs and even a broken apart gravestone; debris that fell along with them. It takes Michael a moment to grasp what just happened – that they're in Lucifer's prison, that _he_ is in Lucifer's prison. _Michael._

He whirls around to face the vessel, Samuel Winchester – and how had he managed to wrench control from his brother, he wonders – and the vessel is all but gaping, looking totally astonished. When he looks at Michael, though, he blinks, flinches and takes a step back. "Er," he says, and then all of a sudden Michael facing his brother again. The astonished expression doesn't wane with the change of control; Lucifer's eyes are wide as he looks around, then back at Michael.

For a moment, they simply stare at each other. Then Lucifer throws his head back and starts to laugh; painful, nearly hysterical laughter that echoes hollowly in the nothingness that this place is.

*

" _You abandoned me!_ ", Lucifer hisses, throwing his brother into the wall and pinning him there.

Oh, he knows this wall, as he knows this place; knows it in and out, every nook and corner, shadow and smooth line. He has spent thousands of years here with nothing but his thoughts – and Michael aches for him, because it has driven him crazy, tarnished the beauty of his grace, this unbelievably beautiful glow that earned him the name of Morningstar.

But then, it was tarnished before; discolored with envy and resentment and ugly hate.

He's also angry, though, angry and confused; angry because Lucifer is _still_ doing this, even after so many years to reconsider, to recognize his mistakes. Confused because now he, Michael, is locked into this prison as well, when he has never been anything but a good son, has never done anything but carry out Orders and do what their Father wanted of him, has tried his best in His absence. Lucifer was the one who rebelled, who put his own petty hurts and feelings in front of everything; before Michael, before Gabriel, but most of all, before their Father and His wishes. It has destroyed everything; made their Father leave, made Gabriel hide behind hilarity and humanity and among primitive pagan so-called gods because he couldn't bear watch it all fall apart. Michael can understand him, even while he pities him for his cowardice.

It has all gone so wrong so long ago; too long ago to fix anything, and it's Lucifer's fault. It makes Michael _furious_.

"It was _you_ who left!", he yells back and throws Lucifer into the opposite wall. Inside him, the tiny spark that is Adam quivers, but being burned by Holy Fire (and that was very creative of Castiel, though he can nothing but despise the little one for rebelling, for getting involved where he has no business, for playing part in preventing him from carrying out his business, ending this once and for all so that their Father may return) has traumatized him badly, and he's silent. It's not something Michael regrets, though he doesn't care for leaving his vessels – few in number as they are – the quivering wrecks Raphael leaves his. He doesn't mind being aware of them, sometimes gleans pleasure from their amazed reactions. Not right now, though – this whole mess, he wants to be done with it, and the Winchesters have interfered way more than they should have been allowed to. He longs to hear his Father's true voice again.

*

They're getting tired, both of them, strength waning for the moment, but neither of them can let it go.

"All you cared about was yourself," Michael hisses, pressing Lucifer into a wall, stepping closer, feeling the body's heart beat furiously, hot anger in its veins. This is what he doesn't like about being in a human body; the way every emotion is magnified, how easy it is to lose control. Before, they fought in their true bodies, spoke with their true voices, as it should be. Lucifer is gasping for not-air, staring at him through eyes narrowed to slits as he continues. "You put yourself in front of our Father, tried to destroy what He has created, what He told us to love and cherish."

Lucifer wrenches himself out of his control with a grunt and yells, "He is replacing us!" Instead of using his powers, Lucifer throws himself bodily into Michael; totally unprepared for that, they fall to the ground, where Lucifer pins him with his body's strength and weight only. Sam Winchester's body has a great advantage over Adam Milligan in that department.

But Michael lets it happen, even though the anger is still coursing through the body, making him breathe harder than necessary – Adam twitches, but he discards it as unnecessary distraction, concentrating fully on the abomination who stopped being his little brother way too long ago.

"He loves them more than us," Lucifer hisses, eyes dark with anger and disgust as he looks up and down the body. "And you just won't see it!"

He hits him them, and Michael retaliates. They start fighting with manpower.

*

The bodies are bloody and bruised, and Adam's is sending signals of pain from nearly every part. Michael ignores the messages, as he ignores Adam moving uncomfortably, impatiently inside of him.

"They're disgusting," Lucifer hisses from under him, and, looking at him, battered and swollen and ugly, he almost has to agree.

He can't stand that, is appalled at himself, so Michael lets go of Lucifer's wrists and sits back, touches his brother's forehead to heal him, repair his clothes and wipe away the blood. The body repaired, Lucifer's anger is painted clear on the face again, as is the desolation and loneliness and fear, and Michael never wanted to know this, but always has. He has tried hating Lucifer so hard, and he does, in some ways, but sometimes he can't. And that makes him so angry, because Lucifer deserves to be hated, punished for what he did, what he still does, what he's doing, what he apparently intends to continue doing.

Michel considers hitting him again, finding something strangely satisfying in the physicality of it, but before he can Lucifer grasps his shoulders and flips them around, presses his fingers to his forehead to heal him in return almost absently as he leans forward, close, and hisses, "You don't even know, do you? You have no idea how disgusting they truly are." He pulls back and looks down at Michael, eyes hard and cold. "They're animals, Michael; not at all worthy of our Father's love, especially not to the extent He bestows it upon them."

Feeling the anger spark in him again, Michael tries to throw Lucifer off him, but Lucifer uses the body's weight- and muscle-advantage over him again to pin him down. Michael could use his powers, but he wants to hear what Lucifer has to say, doesn't wish to move their fight up to that level again; Lucifer appears to be more reasonable without the continuous reminder of their angelic powers. Thus, he uses only the powers of the body to strain against his brother's hold on him, hissing "You have no right to decide over His love!", and something sparks in Lucifer's eyes, the body tenses, and-

And Lucifer is pressing his mouth on Michael's borrowed one in the way that is called a kiss and that Michael has only ever peripherally observed from afar, a long time ago. He can't really watch humans anymore without thinking about his brother, without thinking about his father, and it doesn't fill him with joy anymore. That's another thing Lucifer has taken from him; he misses it, he used to love humans and their wondrous souls.

Adam's reaction inside of him is violent, but Michael has been ignoring him all this time; he barely notices anymore. If he could, he would send his soul to paradise just so he'll stop interrupting, however small the interference is, but he can't anymore – they're completely cut off from everything, in this place.

Nevertheless. "It's not disgusting," he hisses back, because it isn't; "Father wanted them this way, he _made_ them this way."

"This is all they think about," Lucifer growls. "They're so busy copulating or thinking about copulating or wanting to copulate or watching other humans copulate, wishing they were copulating, that they don't even think about our Father, unless they need something – which most of the time can be related to copulating in some way again. It's filthy and abhorrent and they're unworthy of even knowing about our father!" He grinds the body's hips into Michael's borrowed ones, and Michael's anger flares and he throws them around again, pushes Lucifer into the floor and replies, "They are meant to be this way – how can they find their love of God if they are unable to love each other? _What therefore God hath joined together, let not man put asunder_ ," he quotes, and suddenly has a desperation-born thought: what if he can convince Lucifer that humans aren't disgusting? That they are worthy simply because their father decided they are? If he can make him understand that, if he can make Lucifer understand – then, perhaps, he won't have to kill him.

It's a desperate thought, because he loves his brother and in truth does not _want_ to kill him. He has to and will, and in a way he does want to because what Lucifer is doing is wrong and misguided and dishonorable, but if he can make Lucifer change his mind, see the error of his ways... perhaps he'll stop. Perhaps Father will, in His infinite wisdom, forgive him. They probably can't ever be a family again like they used to, but maybe... maybe. And they'll be together in this place for many years to come; it's not like he hasn't enough time to try everything he can think of – and violence hasn't worked so far.

Lucifer strains against his hold, grits his teeth, but before he can throw him off, Michael leans forward and pushes their mouths together again. He hasn't watched them do this often after the initial curiosity had worn off, but he knows how it works, and he has to at least try. He has to make his brother _understand_.

And Lucifer doesn't push him away; he doesn't relax the body, but he doesn't fight. Instead he laughs into his mouth, and Michael tunes the body so he can feel it, feel the hot breath, the warmth of one body close to another. It's interesting, and any other time he'd explore all the nuances and differences, discover a new world once again for the first time in way too long, but he's too angry, the body too wound up to take the time.

The body, he finds, has instincts; instincts and reflexes and reactions, and he lets it loose, and bites. Bites Lucifer's lips, and his brother growls and pushes up against him, but not in a way that is meant to throw him off; he rubs their bodies against each other and stabs his tongue into Michael's mouth, and Michael growls back and they start to fight this way, bodies straining against each other.

It's a heady feeling; how everything is suddenly magnified, not because Michael allows it so but because the body gets so sensitive, so aware, and Michael with it. Aware of clothes between them, of hotness and hardness and softness, the _feel_ of it all. He can taste Lucifer's anger, his desperation and his heartbreak and also his disgust, and it only spurs on his own corresponding feelings.

And they fight. It's different than any other way Michael has fought before, satisfying in a way he didn't know, didn't expect; he can see how he affects Lucifer with everything he does, every involuntary twitch of muscles in their borrowed bodies. Perhaps it's because they're so close physically, or perhaps it's because this brings them close emotionally as well, but he sees Lucifer strain and fight, win when he reverses their positions and lose when Michael bites his neck, sucks a groan out of him. Lucifer retaliates by pushing Adam's jacket off him as far as the elbows, effectively trapping him so Michael can do nothing but writhe when he pushes the shirt up to the body's shoulders and bites at the nipples. It should hurt; Michael knows instinctively that this is a very sensitive, delicate part of the body, but it doesn't; at least not in the same way fists had hurt. He feels more than hears himself make a noise, and Lucifer grins into his skin.

It makes him furious, that grin. He, Michael, is the one who is trying to convince Lucifer that this is good, that it's not disgusting and no sin – that it's natural and just the way their father made humans. It's not the other way around.

He bares his teeth and pushes so he's the one on top again, shakes off the jacket and shirt while he's at it and turns Lucifer's trick on him, pulls his jacket down so his arms are trapped at the elbows by his own weight as well. Sam Winchester's body is what most humans at this point in time consider well-built; he wonders at that absently and remembers times when chubby men were considered sexually appealing, or slim, small, boyish ones. It's interesting how these things change all the time with humans; how really everything changes constantly. Adam inside of him makes a move, a strong one that draws his attention away from Lucifer, who is still under him, smug and smirking, but something lurking in his eyes that is maybe hate and maybe desperation, probably both.

_Siblings_ , Adam says; _brothers don't do that_ , he conveys, and he's a mess of emotions that frankly, Michael does not care to explore at this point. This body is his now, and Adam is lucky he compromised and let him stay inside, stay aware.

"That is a human confinement," he murmurs disinterestedly, still staring down at Lucifer, and his brother's borrowed eyes sparkle with sudden humor.

"Is yours as scandalized as Sammy is?" he asks and tries to move the arm, irritation crossing his face when he remembers that he's trapped.

"Love is love is love in the eyes of our Father," Michael hums and expects the sudden rush of temper in Lucifer, manages to hold him down when he rears up and strains against Michael's hold, cupping his throat with one hand. Lucifer snarls, and Michael quickly slides the other hand down his brother's borrowed body. Remembering Adam's body's reaction, he wants to do something with his nipples, but he has pushed Lucifer too far. It's thrilling and strangely satisfying, to see his brother confined and by and under the influence of a human body's reactions, and he enjoys it greatly. When Lucifer finally stops pushing against him, eyes still glittering dangerously, even as he relaxes and takes the breath his struggling deprived him of; Michael can only barely hold back a smirk. To cover it up, he slides the other hand down the body once more. Shifting a little so his knees pin down the jacket that holds Lucifer's arms, he has his hands free to quickly open the undergarment Lucifer – Sam Winchester – is wearing. He doesn't care to look up and see how Lucifer reacts, just takes hold of his swollen flesh like he has seen so many humans do. An erect penis, he ponders, is fragile and vulnerable, but also strangely powerful. It also appears to be very sensitive, considering the way Lucifer first tenses, then whines when Michael tightens his hold; the bodies know what to do, Sam Winchester's hips twitching and pushing up in a wholly different way than before, Adam's hand instinctively starting to rub up and down.

Michael tilts his borrowed head and watches, fascinated, how the body and Lucifer react; some reactions of the body bleed over, he knows from experience. Right now it's mainly pleasure, but underneath it Michael can see disgust and repugnance that come purely from Lucifer and the emotions he associates with human copulating. Behind that, though, he can see vacancy; the kind that comes with a lack of comprehension, of willingness to understand. Lucifer doesn't understand why their Father loves the humans so much, but what he needs to realize is that he doesn't need to understand. It's not his place – not anyone's place – to question God.

And it's so interesting to see all this context temporarily overwritten by the body's pleasure, both Lucifer's and Michael's, and, wanting to explore this more, Michael starts to use the other hand. First he carefully feels around the he knows to be very sensitive balls, cataloging the way his brother reacts when he presses a little too hard, when he tugs a little too much.

Lucifer _likes_ it. Michael realizes this the same moment Lucifer does – or perhaps he already knows and merely realizes that his brother now does, too – and Lucifer growls and, with a move Michael didn't expect, throws himself up, turns them around so Michael is again the one pinned to the ground.

"You don't understand," Lucifer snarls and, with a surprising burst of angelic powers that Michael barely has the time to prepare against, rips off the cloth Adam's body is clad in. That is fascinating, too; the humans' need to cover themselves mostly independent from necessity, as if by covering their fragile bodies, they're covering a part of their fragile selves. He can feel Adam's shock at his nakedness, as if everything that happened before doesn't count up until right this moment, when the sudden absence of clothes makes it real to him. For the first time, Adam starts to fight him for real; he really doesn't want this, fights him seriously even though he knows he doesn't stand a chance. It's peculiar, but Michael doesn't have the time to deal with one human's sensitivities. It's relatively easy to throw him back down again, especially because Lucifer doesn't halt at undressing him; he instead uses Sam Winchester's body's superior weight to his advantage again to pin the body Michael is occupying down, holds his wrists above his head with one hand and uses the other to grip tightly at his swollen penis. The wave of pleasure that simple action causes to roll over Michael explains so much about humans and their strange fixation on this act; while Lucifer isn't right when saying this is all they think about, he isn't completely wrong either. It's fascinating how it distracts Adam also; he, having lived in this body since he was made, is tied much more strongly to its reactions and instincts, and it's only pleasure Lucifer gives them right now, not pain.

That doesn't last long, however. Satisfied with Michael's reaction – in the face of the intense effect, he stilled and is now waiting to see what his brother will do next, not completely unaffected even in the core of his angelic self – Lucifer slides his borrowed fingers down, around Adam's balls and between the cheeks of his bottom. He's watching Michael closely, taking in his every reaction; Michael knows what's coming, has watched humans do this since they were brought into existence, cast away from paradise; it's curious, the various colorful ways they have found to enjoy each other's bodies – and that is discounting the ways one human can enjoy another's body without that other human's agreement. In a way, Lucifer is even right; it _is_ disgusting. But that part of it is choice, and their father made them with the ability to choose, and they have to accept that. It's not their right nor due to decide what humans are allowed to do or not, whether they are fit to serve God or not – that is and was and always will be only God's decision, not theirs.

Michael has never been of the mind to truly explore humans beyond merely watching; he knows some of his brothers and sisters have taken the time to do more, back then, millennia ago, when they were still allowed, but he has never joined them. He doesn't know if Lucifer has more personal experience, but at least he knows how it's technically supposed to work, Michael thinks while Lucifer pushes one of his fingers into his borrowed body. It's to stretch, he knows, and he's fascinated how different this act seems when one is part of it.

They're still now, both of them staring fixed into each others' eyes while Lucifer works a second finger into the body. Michael feels something change between them, something shifts, but he doesn't know what it is yet; he only knows that suddenly the energy that has been sizzling between them since before Lucifer turned against him – against their Father – changes. It's not about fighting against each other anymore, at least not foremostly; Michael of course still wants to convince his brother, wants him to realize how wrong he is, and he's relatively sure Lucifer hasn't yet given up trying to convince Michael either, but that isn't at the forefront of their minds anymore. He doesn't understand why or how; it must be the bodies, the bodily contact that they have never had before, not like this, that brought the change with it. Adam is rolled up tightly inside; he really is not happy with the proceedings, but Michael doesn't care much. This body has been given to him, and he can do with it whatever he wants, no matter what the human thinks about it.

"Does it not hurt?" Lucifer asks suddenly, unexpectedly. As always, there is the glitter in his eyes that only appeared with his impending fall, but underneath, Michael for the first time in a long time detects something else in there, something close to reason.

His brother isn't asking about the body's reactions as he pushes the fingers in – of course it hurts, but the pain is insignificant, barely noticeable under the overwhelming pain Michael still feels. Because Lucifer abandoned them. Abandoned _him_ , drove their Father away.

"That you left?" Michael returns, and then he has to close the eyes, because that is not what Lucifer meant, and he can't bear it for a moment, the knowledge that to Lucifer, his leaving doesn't even register as something that might have hurt someone.

Lucifer stills. "I was cast out. _You_ cast me out." He stabs his borrowed fingers into Michael's borrowed body, hitting something that makes the body react on its own, back arching and pleasure crashing through him. Adam trembles inside him, and Michael trembles as well, opening the eyes and blinking up at his brother's still face, furious and calm except for the storm raging in his eyes.

"You left us long before that," Michael returns. The effect is somewhat weakened by the fact that the body is breathing heavily, gasping for air, but his brother still understands. Understands at least his words, if not the meaning; of how painful it had been for Michael, for Gabriel and Raphael, watching their brother go down a path they could not follow.

"He loves them more than us," Lucifer hisses, eyes flaring, and he pulls his fingers out, parts Michael's legs and moves between them while he continues, "They're allowed to err and do wrong all their life, and in the end, He still forgives them! And when I try to show Him, instead of telling me I'm wrong, he casts me out and sends _you_ after me, to _kill_ me, and you-!"

Ah. "But I did not succeed!", Michael hisses back, the muscles of Adam's body locking up when Lucifer pushes Sam's erect penis into it. "You were given the chance to repent, to reconsider your mistakes, you were _meant_ to realize where _you_ had erred, the same opportunity that is given a human that went down the wrong path. Just like Abraham was stopped from sacrificing his son to Him, I would have been stopped from killing you, if you had given in. If you had realized you were wrong and let me cast Judgment upon you." Of course, it's too late for that now; there is nobody to stop Michael from killing his brother anymore, and the time for forgiveness has long since passed. Especially in the light of all Lucifer did since his Fall.

Lucifer stares down at him for a long moment, and then he starts to laugh, the echo of it bouncing back from nonexistent walls.

*

Sam Winchester stares down at him, face shocky and pale, and then he scrambles off Michael, throws himself to the side and makes retching noises. Michael stays where he is, on his back, his legs spread, and watches disinterestedly. He's furious that his brother left so abruptly, just when he was about to get through to him, and he's also confused.

"Shut up," Sam Winchester hisses, obviously not addressing Michael. "Oh god," he then says. "Oh god, you- _what did you do_?"

"I had a discussion with my brother," Michael replies disinterestedly. "I am sure you're not unfamiliar with the concept." A spark of irritation flares through him at the memory of Dean Winchester and his insistent refusal to accept his destiny; he is still Michael's true vessel, and Michael is sure things would have proceeded vastly different if Dean Winchester weren't such a stubborn coward.

"That's not- you had sex!" Sam Winchester yells, voice tripping over itself. "You- oh god, how is Adam? Did I _rape_ him?"

That irritates Michael. "Adam Milligan gave this body to me, just as you gave your body to my brother." It's not Sam Winchester's body anymore, not completely, just like Adam's body now also belongs to Michael. Such is the law of consent, once it has been given, and Michael doubts anybody has ever made a decision as informed as Sam Winchester's.

"But that doesn't- how is this not against any rules in heaven, you had sex with your _brother_! In two people's bodies who are _also_ brothers, oh god-" Sam Winchester makes more retching noises, and Michael turns his head to look up into darkness, not interested in what the human is doing. His brother has to come back eventually, and then they will continue their conversation.

Some point later – Sam Winchester has spent the time retching and muttering, apparently not having figured out yet how to communicate with Lucifer without using his mouth – Michael is addressed again. "Dude, please, for the love of- uh, pie, put some clothes on. Or at least... get up, or something."

Michael turns his head to find Sam Winchester has found some tattered pieces of cloth and wrapped them around his waist, tying the scraps together. "We didn't finish," he says.

"Uh, what?" Sam Winchester replies. Michael finds he really does not like looking at him when his brother is not the one in control; it's so painfully obvious that Lucifer has retreated. Maybe he is thinking about what Michael has said, but it's more likely he's gathering his strength to continue the fight at another point.

"The sex," Michael returns, vaguely irritated. No wonder it takes humans so long to achieve something; they're very slow sometimes. "I believe there was a part missing."

"Oh god," is all Sam Winchester says to that, and, really.

Rather pointedly, Michael tells Sam Winchester to "Please refrain from using my Father's name in vain."

"Uhm." Sam Winchester swallows noisily. "Yeah. Sure. Sorry. Look, how is Adam?"

Michael looks at him, not at all interested in finding out, and eventually, Sam Winchester swallows again. "Okay. Can I speak to him?"

He doesn't look like he really wants to, and Michael finds that Adam Milligan doesn't like it much either, but it's not like there is a limit on their time.

He lets Adam Milligan take over.

**Author's Note:**

> Lucifer and Michael have sex while in Sam and Adam's bodies without their consent and despite their protest.


End file.
